Torn Between Destinies
Chapter 41 - Forty One

Chapter 41: Chapter Forty One

The wind had grown colder that morning, sweeping through Silverglen like a warning. I stood by the stream, tossing small pebbles into the water as Erya slept wrapped in a wool blanket near the fire. The ripples moved quietly, almost afraid to disturb the surface. Just like me.

Behind me, I heard Darius’s footsteps before he said anything. I knew the rhythm of them now—calm but steady, sure like the man himself.

He came up beside me and touched my arm.

"Hey," he said softly.

I didn’t turn to look. "Hey."

For a while, we just stood there, listening to the trees whisper around us.

Then he said it.

"I’ve been thinking... I want us to have another pup."

The words hit me like an arrow—sharp and sudden. My body tensed. My heart paused.

I slowly turned to face him. His eyes were warm, hopeful. The same way they looked the day he first held Erya. The same way he looked at me the night he said he loved me.

But I didn’t smile.

I didn’t say anything.

I just stared at him, my chest tight, breath caught in my throat.

"I know things haven’t been calm lately," he continued when I stayed quiet. "But we’ve faced worse, Luce. We made it through. And Erya deserves a sibling. Someone to grow up with, to protect. This place still feels like home to me—despite everything. We can build something strong here, together. All of us."

Still, I said nothing.

Darius’s brows drew together slightly. "You don’t want that?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it again.

"I didn’t say that," I whispered finally.

"Then what is it?" he asked. "Why do you look... scared?"

I turned away from him, wrapping my arms around myself. The trees seemed to bend closer, listening.

"It’s not the idea of another child," I said slowly. "It’s... something else."

He stepped around me so I would look at him again. His face was gentle, but there was worry behind his eyes now. "Then tell me."

I hesitated. I had kept this hidden for weeks now. Even as the strange signs in the land grew stronger, even as my dreams grew darker—I had told no one. Not even Darius.

Because I was afraid.

Of what it meant.

Of what it could cost us.

"I’ve been having dreams," I finally said. "They started after the naming ceremony. When Erya howled and the forest answered."

Darius nodded slowly, waiting.

I looked down at my hands, fingers trembling.

"In the dreams, I see the forest burning. Silverglen in flames. Erya standing alone. And I’m... gone. You’re gone. Everyone is gone."

He inhaled sharply, but said nothing.

I pushed forward. "Then a voice speaks to me. A woman’s voice. She says it again and again: *Only the second-born can break the curse.*"

Darius frowned. "Curse? What curse?"

"I don’t know," I said. "But the more I dream, the clearer it becomes. Something is coming. Something tied to this land. To us. And if we have another child, Darius—"

I stopped, voice cracking.

He stepped closer. "Luciana... if that’s true, then we need to understand it. But you can’t carry that alone. Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Because I didn’t want to believe it," I said. "And maybe I didn’t want you to look at our future with fear. Erya’s howl was supposed to be a blessing. But ever since that night, something’s been wrong. You feel it. We all do."

He looked down, jaw clenched.

"I thought the dreams were just nightmares," I continued. "But now, with the food spoiling, the animals acting strange, the land whispering... I’m starting to think it’s a warning."

"And the second-born?" he asked quietly.

"I don’t know if it’s a child... or something else. But I’m terrified that if we try again, we’ll be opening a door that should stay shut."

Darius turned away then, walking a few steps toward the stream. His hands clenched at his sides.

"I didn’t ask because I thought it was easy," he said. "I asked because I wanted more of this. More of you. More of what we’ve built."

"I know."

He looked over his shoulder. "But now you’re telling me our future might destroy everything."

I nodded slowly. "Yes."

He was quiet for a long time.

The wind moved through the trees again, colder than before.

"You’re not saying no," he said after a while. "But you’re afraid of what yes could mean."

"Yes."

He let out a deep breath. "Then we won’t rush it. Not until we know more."

My chest eased a little at his words. But guilt still pressed heavily on me. I had kept this from him, from everyone, for too long. And now it stood between us like a wall of ice.

"I’m sorry," I whispered.

He turned fully toward me again and walked up slowly, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Don’t apologize. You were trying to protect us. But I need to protect you too. That means we face this together, Luciana. No more silence. No more hiding."

I nodded, eyes filling.

He pulled me into a hug, holding me tightly, like he could anchor me to this world. I buried my face in his chest and breathed him in—earth and warmth and home.

But in the back of my mind, the voice still echoed.

*Only the second-born can break the curse.*

That night, we sat around the fire with the others.

I shared my dreams.

For the first time, I told them everything.

Mikael’s face grew tight with concern. Sora closed her eyes like she had already known. Rina stared at the flames, her fingers picking at her sleeves.

"What does it mean?" Rina asked quietly.

"I don’t know yet," I said. "But I think the land is trying to tell us something. And I think it’s tied to us. To our blood."

"You think your children are part of some prophecy?" Mikael asked.

I nodded slowly. "Yes. I didn’t want to believe it. But the signs are growing."

Sora finally opened her eyes. "Prophecies are never just stories. They are old truths waiting for the right time."

Darius stood beside me, his hand resting on my back. "Then we need to find out what this curse is. Where it came from. How to stop it."

Rina’s eyes met mine. "And if the second-born is the answer?"

I hesitated.

"Then maybe we don’t have a choice."

Everyone fell silent.

The fire crackled softly between us.

Erya stirred in her cradle nearby, cooing in her sleep.

Darius watched her for a long time.

"We will protect her," he said. "And if another comes... we protect them too. No matter what this prophecy says."

I nodded, but the fear stayed in my heart like frost on a window—clear, cold, and impossible to wipe away.

Because deep down, I knew the voice in my dreams was growing stronger.

And soon, it would want more than whispers.

It would want something real.